But he wasn’t finding her tracks, she realized in bewilderment. He was moving to the left, and the beam was focusing on the ground. Why hadn’t he found her tracks? He was an expert, and he knew her prints well. Many times she had watched him from hiding and knew just how good he was. He had kept her on the run.
Just as she was watching him now. But he wouldn’t find her prints in the direction he was going. He would find Zander’s.
Unless Zander had erased all sign of his passing. That was possible, even probable.
“You’re here, Eve,” Doane called softly. “I can feel you. You must have been very cold to risk making that fire. But you were careful. I didn’t see or smell it until I was nearly here.” His flashlight’s beam danced on the earth in front of him. “Maybe you kept the fire so low because you were afraid I’d do that. Are you afraid of me, Eve? I hope you are. It’s been very frustrating knowing you don’t fear me. If Kevin were still alive, you’d be afraid. He could make anyone afraid if that’s what he wanted.” He chuckled. “And he doesn’t really have to be alive, does he? I think you’re still afraid of him. I could see he had you by the throat whenever you were working on that reconstruction.” He was going deeper in the circle encompassing the clearing. “If I don’t kill you right away, you’ll have to face him again. You will finish that reconstruction. That’s something for us to look forward to.”
Nausea. Smothering. A reaching-out to touch. To hurt Eve, to hurt Bonnie.
To hurt Bonnie.
God, yes, she was afraid of Kevin.
But if Doane died, then Kevin could no longer use him to try to fight his way back to the living. That merging she had been afraid would happen between father and son would not occur, and the evil that existed would be destroyed.
Was that why she had returned tonight? To make sure that Doane was killed? She had been struggling with the decision whether she could actually kill deliberately. She had told herself it was her duty to not opt out and run, but it could be that the other, more chilling, decision had already been made.
“Do you know that Kevin didn’t really care anything about the sexual side of what he did to those little girls. He just found dominating them fascinating. He had to prove that the magical purity within them could be crushed and destroyed by him and him alone. He believes he can still do that. He’s been trying to reach out for your Bonnie, but she’s very strong. He’s not used to little girls being stronger than he is. He thinks that you’re helping her fight him.”
Bastard. Son of a bitch. Every word was a red-hot brand that filled her with rage … and sickening fear. And Doane knew it and was pouring acid into that wound.
Yes, she would help Bonnie. Her soul would stay safe and full of joy in that special place. No monsters would be allowed to enter there.
“I can sense your anger. You didn’t like that, did you? It’s good to know we can reach you through her.” He was on the far side of the clearing. “I’m sure that Kevin can find ways of hurting your Bonnie that don’t involve the physical. He’s such a smart boy and he can—” He stopped and the beam zeroed in on something on the ground. “What have we here?” he murmured. “Fresh tracks. Your tracks. How fresh, Eve?” He shined the light on the ground leading from the campfire. “Yes, you jumped to your feet and started running toward the forest. Did you hear me coming?”
What? She was totally confused. She had certainly not entered the forest from that direction. He must be looking at Zander’s tracks.
“I can imagine you close, crouching, afraid to move because I’d hear you. Let’s just see where you’re hiding. These prints are leading toward the edge of the cliff. The earth is hard there, and you probably thought I wouldn’t be able to track you.” She saw the glint of moonlight on his rifle as he moved through the trees. “I’m getting impatient, Eve. I’m feeling a few raindrops, and I do not want to stalk you in a thunderstorm. I may have to blow one of your kneecaps to keep you from doing this again. That might work very well. You’d still be able to finish the reconstruction.”
He was going deeper into the forest, heading toward the bluff. His voice was fading as he put distance between them.
She heard a low rumble of thunder and the spatter of raindrops on the leaves.
Stay here or go after him? She knew what the decision should be.
But that wasn’t why she had turned at the trail and followed him back to the campfire.
Common enemy.
And their common enemy was going after Zander.
She started to glide silently through the forest.
* * *
ZANDER LEFT THE PATH and pushed through the shrubbery. Not the easiest way to travel, but it was certainly the best means to hide his trail. Let Doane believe he was the hunter and not the prey. Let him think that he was alone in these woods with poor, defenseless Eve Duncan.
Zander smiled. Eve Duncan defenseless? Hardly. Defenseless like a grizzly bear, maybe. Even without the knife he’d given her. She was clever and clearly had a survival instinct that bordered on ruthless.
Where had that streak come from? She would not have admitted that he had anything to do with it, and he was inclined to agree. Eve’s upbringing and the loss of her daughter had undoubtedly toughened her. It hadn’t been an easy life that created the character of Eve Duncan.
He crouched low as he moved through an especially thick patch of brush. The ground was getting so uneven that he knew he might have to return to the trail. Even if it meant he—
The ground fell away beneath him.
Before he knew what was happening, he felt himself kicking and clawing at space as a sickening crack cut through the silence.
He tumbled over twenty feet into the void, trying to latch onto something, anything, that would slow his descent. He finally struck bottom with another sharp crack, this one even more sickening than the first.
It was the sound of his wrist breaking.
Pain stabbed him at every nerve ending, and a low, guttural groan escaped him.
Dammit.
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth until the pain subsided.
There, finally.
He opened his eyes. Where in the hell was he?
His eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was at the bottom of a mine shaft, he realized. A gold mine dug and abandoned over 150 years before, like scores of others that probably dotted these mountains. He had stepped through the brush and rotted wood planks that covered the sealed mine, an entrance hidden and undisturbed by virtue of being off the trail.
Until he stumbled upon—and into—it.
Lucky guy.
Excruciating pain still radiated from his wrist. And his left ankle. Shit.
He pulled himself up and tried putting weight on his leg.
His ankle held.
No break, maybe a minor sprain. He could power through it. His wrist, however, was another matter. His left hand would be useless until he got medical attention.
Not the best condition in which to go mano a mano with a maniac like Doane.
A rustling sound up above.
He looked up. Not now, Doane. I need a little time.
He silently drew his gun from his holster.
If Zander was lucky it was only a wild animal …
“Are you all right?” a voice whispered.
Eve’s voice.
She moved closer, and he saw her silhouetted against the starlit sky. “What the hell are you doing here?” He spoke louder than he meant to but the thunder muffled it.
“It looks like I’m saving your ass. I saw Doane go into the forest, and I was afraid that he might be tracking you. Then I heard a crashing sound, and I came to—”
“I’ll save my own ass. Get the hell out of here.”
“Do you think I want to be here? You’re nothing to me. It just seemed … right.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. I should have known. You’re a do-gooder who thinks she can change the world.”
“I’m not a do-gooder.”
“Close enough. A do-gooder and an amateur. God, I hate amateurs.”
“And I hate men who take lives and walk away.”
“Then get out of here,” Zander said. “Move!”